Chemical equations or whatever the hell they're called were never my thing. From the very beginning, I knew Science wasn't for me.
Sitting through Adriana's class today only confirmed it. Choosing Art was probably the best decision I've ever made. Science is a complicated bitch we can't live without, and frankly, I've got no patience for that kind of drama.
By the time I reached my apartment, I was already dreaming of my bed. I slid my key into the lock—and paused.
It was already unlocked.
My heart slammed against my ribs. My hand froze on the doorknob. For a second, I questioned my memory. Did I forget to lock it?
No. I'm not that careless.
My fingers darted for my phone. To call Drew, one of my dad's private security guys. Given our history, I wasn't about to take chances.
My thumb hovered over Drew's contact.
This wasn't paranoia. It was instinct.
I remember when it happened, I was only Sixteen. At São Paulo.
